The Last

It’s a month until my death day.

Will you buy me flowers

This time?

Instead of betrayal.

Instead of a phone call,

That took my heart

In a beat.

I’ve left you clues;

Perhaps you haven’t noticed.

They are

After all;

Exaggerated.

Like our love.

They’re too much!

I left them

In all those

Places you crucified me.

She must have walked

Past them too.

Pieces of me;

My skeleton,

My soul,

My life.

That you crushed

After all that time

They spend

Creating.

At first I was, gleaming;

But not now.

Merely fading.

Lying

In wait,

As I was

When I lived.

For you to notice,

To wonder,

To cherish.

But no,

It’s too late.

Reviews

[Robin Saxon]

Loved, lost, betrayed
'I left them In all those Places you crucified me. She must have walked Past them too. Pieces of me; My skeleton, My soul, My life.' The poem itself is very strong, but these particular lines stand out. To be hurt is bad enough, to be humiliated in love tears at the very essence of who you are. Very good piece of writing.

[Najam Us Saher]

You have woven a tale in this poem, I liked this.